


four's a party

by latenights



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Also One Concept Prompts, M/M, One Word Prompts, seijou third years
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 14:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7108681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/latenights/pseuds/latenights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A compilation of short fics about the Seijou third years, all based on one word/one concept prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. MatsuHana: Platypus

Matsukawa isn't one to believe in fate, or prophecy, or divine intervention, but he's certain if there really was a predetermined purpose drawn into his life, it would be being the voice of reason to Hanamaki Takahiro. The very same Hanamaki Takahiro that is trying to lure a wild platypus into his arms at 2 am by a cold riverbank.

"You know," Matsukawa starts, moving his flashlight to Hanamaki's feet to check for droppings, "when I planned us a trip to Australia I don't think I ever penciled in 'capture a pet platypus at the asscrack of morning' on my list." Hanamaki scoffs but never takes his eye off the animal and continues waving a piece of bread as an incentive.

"You need to live a little Issei. You can't waste the rest of our vacation just animal spotting and swimming like everyone," he says as if that wasn't a sensible thing to do on vacation.

"I didn't just do all that. I also caught the spiders for you and stopped you from trying to box a kangaroo. Plus platypuses are, you know, very poisonous."

Hanamaki just shrugs. "It's not lethal though, right?" Matsukawa is slightly impressed by his inability to be phased by imminent platypus attacks.

"Here lies Hanamaki Takahiro. Died from poisonous mammals and being a complete dumbass."

"I _am_ a dumbass. I'm dating you," he retorts.

Matsukawa lightly kicks his ass, knocking his boyfriend forward from where he's crouched on the ground. The platypus, amusingly, watches them still, even when Hanamaki lets out a string of curses as he dusts his jeans off. He glares at Matsukawa over his shoulder.

"Worst. Boyfriend. Ever." He sticks out his tongue for good measure before returning his attention back to the animal, which was now digging into the wet ground. Hanamaki sighs in defeat, figuring twenty minutes of the platypus' complete disinterest in him was enough to call it quits. He stands back up, tossing the bread on the ground and returns to Matsukawa. He rests a defeated head against Matsukawa’s shoulder.

"I thought I was the Worst Boyfriend Ever," Matsukawa teases, although his fingers still weave through the pink of Hanamaki's hair. The response he's granted with is an annoyed whine and Matsukawa laughs, nuzzling into his hair.

"Come on. We can sleep in when we get back and go to the zoo in the afternoon," he offers. "As long as you don't try to steal any platypuses or fight a kangaroo." He can feel Hanamaki's head bobbing with laughter, but still keeping his face hidden. Matsukawa tickles his side until he's wheezing and kisses him, mid-pout.

It's only until they're in the car halfway to the hotel that Matsukawa comments, "You know platypuses are carnivores right?"

Hanamaki is quiet for ten seconds.

"SON OF A BITCH!"

  
  



	2. MatsuIwa: Steak

"I like you," Matsukawa suddenly announces in the middle of their study session. His eyes are still trained on their assignment papers and Iwaizumi can't point to a single sign that suggests whether he's joking or not. His composure is almost enviable; Matsukawa might as well have been talking about their homework.

"I like you," he says again, louder this time in case Iwaizumi didn't hear him. If only he'd look up, he could very much enjoy the gaping expression the ace was sporting. Or maybe it's better that he didn't, Iwaizumi thinks. He gets teased enough by this asshole as it is.

"Like the way you like steak or as a friend?" Iwaizumi asks when Matsukawa stays silent for a whole minute after history's least romantic confession.

Matsukawa finally looks up only to fix him with an incredulous stare, one thick eyebrow raised. "Are you implying I want to fuck steak?"

This is definitely the worst confession of all time. "Why would I im- Wait you want to-"

"Oh fuck no. Although," Matsukawa pauses and his gaze falls back to the papers on the table that he's been staring at for the past ten minutes.

"Although?" Iwaizumi urges because no way in hell was he going to let their conversation end in steak sex.

"There might be other things I would want to, you know. Fuck. Or kiss. Mostly kiss." It's only now that Iwaizumi notices how pink the tips of Matsukawa's ears are. _The asshole is even composed in his embarrassment what the hell._

"So it's not steak?" He asks because he honestly doesn't know how to respond to the turn of their peaceful study session.

"More like beef," Matsukawa admits, lips tugging into a smile. "A beefy guy." And before Iwaizumi can retort, he puts down the papers and leans across the table, eyes hooded and tone teasing. "You know I literally just confessed to you and somehow you're mistaking it for my supposed sexual attraction to meat."

It's Iwaizumi's turn to blush. Matsukawa smiles at this, waiting for a comeback.

"This is the worst way to confess to someone. Ever," he points out because it's true. His instinct is to pull his gaze away and melt into the floor but he powers through with sheer will. "But I guess you're not so bad."

"Even if I hypothetically had a meat kink?"

Iwaizumi groans but his small smile betrays him. "I take it back. You're terrible." Matsukawa laughs like he knows what Iwaizumi really means.

"Does that mean you like me too?" Matsukawa leans close enough for their noses to brush.

"Sure. Steak kink and all I guess," Iwaizumi manages to say without bursting into half groans and laughter. Matsukawa does laugh softly, a warm sound that turns Iwaizumi’s face blush to a full body one.

"Well actually, what if I did have a-"

"Finish that sentence and I'm recounting everything I've said."

It's the worst confession in the world but the outcome isn't terrible at all, Iwaizumi thinks.


	3. MatsuOi: Magic 8 Ball

Ideally, Matsukawa would have forty five minutes to spend lunch time napping on the school's rooftop, where the wind would give him sanctuary from the heat.

But Oikawa was a contingency that he didn't account for in his nap plan, leaving him counting the precious minutes lost as his captain rests his head on his lap without introduction. Only a smile and the familiar gaze he had when he needed to share something most likely unimportant but ever so monumental in Oikawa Tooru’s Rose Gold Lens.

"I got a magic eight ball yesterday." Matsukawa replies with a nonchalant hum.

"I asked it if you and I would make a good couple." At this, Matsukawa snorts, lips tugging up in amusement. 

"It said, 'Absolutely'." He pauses only for a breath, leaving no time for Matsukawa to make his inevitable smart ass retort. "Mattsun, will you do the honor of going out with me?"

"Sure," Matsukawa mutters, eyes trained on his watch. 37 minutes left and counti- Wait, he thinks. "Wait," he actually stammers out. "Did you just ask me out?"

Oikawa politely doesn't mention the higher octave of his voice. "Absolutely." He beams up at Matsukawa, all sun rays and honey. Matsukawa doesn't know whether to blush or gag.

"So you're asking me out...because of a toy ball?" He draws out the last part slowly in case Oikawa missed what an incredibly dumb life decision making tactic it was. The captain shakes his head, arm stretched up to pat Matsukawa’s cheek.

"Don't be silly Mattsun. I only used it as a confirmation. Think of it as a second opinion or something."

"That's for medical evaluations."

"The troubles of the heart are certainly a medical problem." His other arm reaches up to wound around Matsukawa’s neck. Grinning, he pulls his friend's head down until they're just centimeters apart.

Thirty four minutes left. That and his spine is really hurting but his gaze accidentally lowers to Oikawa's lips and he thinks a bent spine might actually be worth the position.

"You sure you don't want me to consult the magic ball?" 

Oikawa huffs a small laugh. Matsukawa resigns himself to back problems for the next week when he kisses him, mid-laugh.

 


	4. IwaOi: Microwave

It's a yearly tradition Hajime goes through after every one of Oikawa's birthday parties. Laid out on the floor of Oikawa's bedroom are about a dozen anonymous boxes and bags, all ripe for ripping into. As always, Hajime hands his boyfriend the smallest present first, a light silvery gift bag the size of his palm. He watches as Oikawa digs into it and squeals when he fishes out a silver bracelet, constellation pendants hanging off the shiny hoop.

He wastes no time in clasping the band on. "I'm gonna guess this is your present Iwa-chan?" he says cheerily, arm outstretched to admire the bracelet's glint. The pink settling on Iwaizumi's cheeks is a dead giveaway to the answer. Oikawa traps him in a bear hug, nuzzling their cheeks together with a sing song "thank you" until Iwaizumi pries his arms off his neck. 

"Just open up the rest, idiot."

The bracelet tinkles like little bells as Oikawa tears into the rest of the presents Iwaizumi hands to him by order of size. They take turns guessing the gifter of each item: a glow in the dark Star Wars shirt (Kindaichi), Monster Hunters (Makki and Mattsun, definitely), a Pikachu doll (obviously Kunimi), a new set of quality oil paints (Yahaba and Watari?), and three tins of animal shaped cookies (Kyouken-chan maybe?). Still there was a large box left unopened, slightly heavy when Hajime hands it to his boyfriend. Oikawa shakes it and frowns when there's metallic clanging.

"I don't know who else could have given me something."

"Maybe someone double gifted," Hajime offers. With a new surge of excitement at the possibility, Oikawa claws through the plain red paper but then turns worryingly white when he sees the contents. Hajime stiffens.

"Tooru?" He crawls over to peek into the box which Oikawa closes in world breaking record time and pushes his face away. 

"It's nothing! It's empty!" He explains nervously. Hajime doesn't buy it one bit. He shoves Oikawa over, ignoring his whines of how much of a brute he is to push around the birthday boy and opens the box.

It's a broken microwave, char marks streaked on the inside and questionable pieces of metal rattling there. A note is attached to it's cracked glass pane and Hajime takes it, slapping away his boyfriend's hands when he tries to snatch it away

'Dear Oikawa, 

Happy Birthday. Thanks for fucking up my microwave. It's 5000 yen. Looking forward to the payment.

With love,   
Makki

p.s. if Iwaizumi manages to kill you I expect him to pay in your stead.'

Beside him Oikawa laughs weakly, voice two octaves higher. 

"It's kind of funny actually," he stammers out, scratching his head. "I guess you really can't microwave aluminum fo- IWA-CHAN NO DON'T KILL ME ON MY BIRTHDAY!"

And to this day, some say that if you listen closely enough to the broken microwave, the distant, shrill screams of Oikawa Tooru can be heard.


	5. HanaOi: Alpaca

The world is a cruel and unforgiving place. 

Case one: The one day that Hanamaki decides to go out with his friends, it rains for the first time in three weeks, leaving him drenched while in line buying tickets to the fair.

Case two: The guy in front of him buys the last pink cotton candy, his fucking favorite, that he had patiently waited ten minutes for. 

Case three: Iwaizumi comes out of the arcade section blushing and with an armful of stuffed animals, his darling Matsukawa in tow which means a giant proverbial kick to his romantic ego because Tooru  _ loves _ stuffed animals but he  _ sucks _ too much at crane games to get his own boyfriend anything. 

And so, as another victim of the universe's sadistic hands of turning everything to shit, Hanamaki has spent the last twenty minutes of their lunch time glaring excessively at the soft faced animals next to Iwaizumi. Those damn beady eyes and pastel fur. Damn them. 

"You're scaring the children Makki," Oikawa comments flatly as he digs into his funnel cake. Iwaizumi snorts.

"His face already scares children without trying."

"Hahaha, cute," Hanamaki grits out. 

"He's very cute, thanks for pointing it out," Matsukawa, ever the sap king, helpfully supplies. Iwaizumi stammers and lightly punches Matsukawa’s arm in embarrassment, which only makes him chuckle fondly and ruffle his boyfriend's hair. 

Oikawa fake gags. "And you say we're the gross PDA couple."

"You're clinging to his arm like a disgusting koala and you've got a thigh on his lap," Iwaizumi retorts. Oikawa just sticks his tongue out. 

"We're just affectionate! We just like showering each other in looooove." Oikawa stretches out the last word in his playful sing song. It sounds teasing but they all know him well enough to pick out the underlying genuine sentiment beneath it and Hanamaki mentally shrinks a bit for brooding the whole time instead of being grossly touchy feely with Oikawa. 

What the hell was he doing moping around instead of being himself? Aka A Good Boyfriend (tm), who will definitely, on the promise of all profiteroles in the world, get Oikawa a fucking stuffed animal from a game if it's the last thing he'd do (for today).

He trades in ten dollars worth of change. 

 

\-----

 

An hour later finds him with his head against the scratched glass pane of a crane machine, turning over his last quarter between his fingers as he mumbles curses regardless of the toddlers walking by. A hand clamps over his shoulder and he nearly jumps but Oikawa's familiar laugh stops him.

"Have you been here this whole time?" 

"Maybe," is Hanamaki's muttered reply. 

Oikawa hums vaguely and suddenly his fingers gently pry the coin from his palm. Hanamaki finally lifts his head up to turn around at its absence.

"Can you just give me my last shred of dignity back please?" he flatly pleads, holding out his hand. Oikawa shakes his head and sticks the quarter in his jean pocket. Before he can open his mouth to make a smartass remark, Oikawa presses a finger to his lip.

"You've been all weird today." His tone leaves no room for joking. Hanamaki wants to smooth the worried crease of his eyebrows. 

"It's just been a bad day--"

"But it's more than that, isn't it?" Oikawa interrupts and Hanamaki averts his gaze away to the cracks on the floor. If he looks at Oikawa's face any longer he'll tear up and fuck, he'd rather stuff himself in the machine than cry in a public place. 

Except Oikawa makes it difficult, when one of his hands slips into Hanamaki's and the other gently tugs his chin back to face him. 

"You know I never worry right? About how much you do for me?" Oikawa's expression softens, his thumb stroking Hanamaki's cheek. Hanamaki's fingers curl more tightly around his and he nods. 

Oikawa leans in, presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You don't have to feel like you're competing with Mattsun and Iwa-chan okay? You're already a good boyfriend and they know it." His smile is like candlelight. "And I know it."

Hanamaki nods again, laughing weakly if only to keep the tears at bay. "You really are so goddamn smart." His voice is a little shaky but he manages a genuine smile and Oikawa beams at the sight of it. 

"You can't be the only good boyfriend in this relationship Makki." He releases his hold of Hanamaki's cheek and digs in his pocket for the coin, holding it up in the artificial lights of the arcade. "You wanna try this together?"

Hanamaki lifts their clasped hands and rests it on the machine's control lever. "Ready when you are."

Sixty seconds as soon as the start button is pressed. Oikawa is adorably enthusiastic, drumming his free hand on the glass pane and muttering encouragements under his breath. He gasps when the claw pinches the ear of a pale blue alpaca toy.

"Makki, Makki,  _ Takahiro _ , we're almost there!" he squeals as the claw makes its way to the finish drop, the alpaca dangling dangerously, threatening to slide out. Oikawa stops breathing when it falls from the claw.

And straight into the prize drop.

Hanamaki retrieves the toy, relishing in the sweet smell of manufactured fur and victory over the Claw of Death, and hands it to Oikawa. His boyfriend clutches it tenderly to his chest. 

"I'm naming it Hiro," Oikawa announces and kisses the thing on its furry head. 

"I can't believe you're replacing me with an alpaca," Hanamaki groans, but he's sure the grossly fond look on his face gives him away. Oikawa tip toes and kisses him on the head too.

"Better?"

Hanamaki grins and holds out an arm for Oikawa to take.

"Much better."

  
  
  
  
  



	6. HanaIwa: Apron

Hajime loves Saturdays, cut off from work and college responsibilities, even if temporarily. He gets to sleep in til noon without Hanamaki pushing him off the bed at 7 am to wake him up. It's a bit cold when he wakes up and the digital clock by his bedside glares 10:54 am but he slinks out of bed anyway, rubbing the remnants of sleep away from his eyes as he makes his way to the kitchen. 

"Good morning Hajime-kun."

Hajime stops entirely in his tracks, not sure whether to be horrified or embarrassed. Maybe both. 

"Speechless huh?" Hanamaki leans back on the counter by the stove, naked, yes very very naked, save for the lacy apron covering him. He winks at Hajime.

Hajime promptly turns around and makes his way back to the bedroom. 

"Huh? Wait, Iwaizu-" There's fabric rustling and fumbling footsteps before Hanamaki blocks his way, arms out for maximum stopping coverage. "What, you're just gonna go back to sleep after all this?" He gestures indignantly to his apron.

"Yes," Hajime answers flatly and makes an attempt to step around but Hanamaki blocks him again. He could easily just shove him aside but that would go against his code of not messing with anyone who was naked or peeing. And to his chagrin, Hanamaki was definitely very naked.

His boyfriend crosses his arms, foot tapping. "I can't believe this. After all my effort to spice up our sex lives--"

"The only thing you're spicing is our breakfast after you put some pants on."

They both have a stare-off, glare to glare and Hajime is sure he's going to win this time. 

That is, until Hanamaki closes the distance between them to lean his weight on Hajime and hikes a leg to Hajime's waist. "Take me Hajime-kun," he insists in his flattest expression and voice. "Take me all the way to paradise."

Hajime can feel a crack of a smile breaking through his stern exterior, damn it.

"I'll take you to the bakery," he suggests instead, trying his best to keep his voice steady with great effort from losing his shit, "after you put on pants." Hanamaki nods and steps away from him and to their bedroom. 

"I'm still keeping the apron on."


	7. MatsuOi: Seagull

Oikawa Tooru’s Fail Safe Operation: Impress the Cute Beach Bartender.

1) Pretty wind blown hair. Check.   
2) Being sexily damp from the ocean spray. Check.  
3) Charming but not cheesy pick up line. Check.  
4) Ask for said bartender to make his specialty. Check.

Leaning forward on the bars cool wood top, Oikawa relishes in his little victory, watching appreciatively as the bartender, Matsukawa works on his drink. The hustle of the beach behind him and clinking of glass can't distract him from Matsukawa’s well fitted v-neck (no Hawaiian shirt thank heavens) and the wind and salt mess of his hair. Matsukawa is too entirely engrossed in mixing to notice his stare.

Or maybe not, Oikawa thinks as Matsukawa expertly tosses a bottle up and catches it before sending him a wink. It takes him all the restraint to push away the temptation to blow the guy a kiss. Embarrassing dorky sides are for the second dates, not first meetings. He'll have another plan for then.

"Alright, you might wanna lean back a little bit," Matsukawa gently warns as he pushes Oikawa's drink on the counter, a pretty sky blue mix in a cocktail glass. Oikawa gives him a confused glance but pushes himself away anyway. 

Matsukawa takes a lighter from his pocket and flicks it towards the glass.

And the drink starts burning gently, light blue flames licking on the surface of it.

Oikawa leans in close, watches the dancing fire in awe. "That's amazing."

"Yeah well." He looks up in time to see the red on Matsukawa's cheeks. "Just thought it'd be appropriate to give a hot guy an equally hot drink."

Oikawa ends up snorting mid-laugh which is awful considering he was kind of going for the low-sexy-chuckle route. He shrinks a bit in his seat but Matsukawa doesn't seem to mind at all. He slides his order pad and pen over and drops the million dollar question.

"Can I have your number?" 

Tooru has to stop himself from blurting out an immediate "yes" as pretends to consider it for a moment. Don't ever show how desperate you are. 

"Why not?" he replies coyly and takes the pen to scribble down his number. 

Just as a seagull snatches it from his fingers.

Matsukawa matches his wide-eyed stare and Oikawa tries to laugh it off except three more fly achingly close past him and he shrieks instead. Quickly, Matsukawa yanks him by the arm and half drags him to behind the counter, nearly knocking all the shelf bottles. He keeps Oikawa's head down as a flock of them dive by to mob the poor man in the seat behind where Oikawa was a minute ago. The screaming is continuous, punctuated by the heavy beat of wings and foolish attempts of punching birds. It's only when the noise fades away that Matsukawa lets Oikawa back up. 

"That was..." Oikawa gulps. "Intense."

"Seagulls are our local mafia."

"I see."

Matsukawa dusts the sand off him, checks his face for scratches. "So," he starts, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. "Dorky snorting laugh. Shrieking loud enough to break glass. And no survival instinct whatsoever." Oikawa feels like burying himself in the sand.

"I'm just gonna go and stick my head in a sandcastle," Oikawa mutters, crawling over the counter to the other side. When he turns to pay for his drink, Matsukawa presses a piece of paper to his palm. 

"See you again tomorrow? Maybe without mob attacks?" His gaze is hopeful. 

Oikawa stares at the numbers in his hand before returning his smile. 

"Why not?"


	8. HanaIwa: Lavender

In his two years of working in Iwaizumi Florists, there has never been a day where Hajime closes shop early.

'There's a first time for everything,' he thinks bitterly, watching from his hiding spot behind the counter at the masked figure groaning and lifting himself from the crushed tulips on the floor. The man/superhero/collateral damage machine dusts off shards of broken pots off his black suit and gives Hajime a sheepish smile. 

"Sorry about your, umm, shop." He looks embarrassed even beneath the eye mask and hood. "The bouquets broke my fall. Thanks."

Hajime is halfway to giving a sarcastic reply when the, presumably, big shot villain launches himself at the guy, knocking another gaping hole three times his size in the wall and fuck, those poor wisterias. He winces as the rest of the flower pots collapse and shower the floor in a rain of petals and ceramic. He spent six hours yesterday organizing those. 

"Of all the fucking shit to happen..." He's tempted to grab the garden shears in the back and go demand reimbursement but the sensible part of him keeps him safe and hidden behind the counter. He might be strong but he's nothing compared to the two enhanced guys out there. 

Twenty minutes, a flurry of bullets and explosions, and probably a months worth of city wide collateral damage later, the sounds of chaos die down, replaced by police sirens and cheering from bystanders. Good to know the good guy won. If only he'd pay for the shop.

He jumps over the counter to assess the damage and damn it'd take all of his limbs and organs on the black market to fix and replace everything.

Hajime just starts screaming. 

Which is probably why it takes a while for him to notice the hero's return, standing a few feet away and eyes wide as saucers from under the mask.

The guy shuffles his feet nervously. "Am I interrupting something or...?" 

Hajime's gaze locks on his target and without thinking, he storms to the man who possibly saved his life and many others but still. 

"Tell me," he grits out, face inches away from the hero, "you have a way to fix all this right?"

He doesn't answer for a few moments, too busy looking Hajime up and down before a playful smile dawns on his face. 

"That's what I came back for." The smile evolves to a grin and Hajime is close enough to notice his freckles. Hero holds out his hand. "Shadow Wing. Or Makki, if you prefer a less awkward name."

Hajime slowly shakes his hand. "Iwaizumi Hajime. And how exactly are you going to pay for all this?"

With a grin, Makki takes off his hood, revealing a head of bright pink hair that so does not match his super name, and the mask. 

'Oh no he's hot.'

"I'll just take those flowers in the back," Makki says cheerily, pointing to the lone surviving bouquet of lavenders. "Does five hundred thousand dollars sound like a good deal for them?"

Hajime doesn't bother hiding his gaping mouth expression. Then, finding his composure, he lifts his chin up and returns Makki's smile. 

"Throw in a dinner too, since you broke everything in the break room."

He grabs the slightly wilted flowers and tosses them to Makki. The other inspects it with a satisfied grin. 

"Deal."


End file.
